9 Family

"Did you check on the stables? Or the kitchens perhaps?!" Accused an exasperated Cercei, verbally smashing the poor servant to the ground. "I did my queen! He's not there!" Said the somewhat fearful servant as they walked through the Red Keeps Hallways. Damned incompetents, Cercei thought as she made her way towards Joffrey's room. He was probably right there and had told the servants not to tell her… Her Joffrey was feared, as it should be, as every King should be.

But when she entered his room, she found nothing except a small parchment lying on the cupboard. Recognizing it as Joffrey handwriting, she gave it a look. Her face turned paler and paler the more she read it.

The "Game of Thrones" and, really, the entirety of this godsforsaken continent is a monumental deathtrap waiting to maim, traumatize and kill any and all so called "players", innocents, smallfolks, lords, kings, everyone, at a moment's notice. It is with that thought in mind I hereby renounce my claim to the throne and leave the intrigue and power games of the Seven Kingdoms in the capable hands of you players, may you literally choke on it. I'm off to Lys to live the good life, I'm sure Robert will be proud. So long!

PD: I took the Hound with me, I'm sure Tywin won't mind.

The parchment slipped her fingers as she screamed "SER BARRISTAN!!!"

-.PD.-

The seas splashed across the Swift Winds as the cog bullied through the unusually stormy waters of the Narrow Sea. The Hound was standing stoically on the bridge, but his charge… well…

"BLLLRRRRGHHHGHGGHOUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHH" Said Joffrey, or tried to say as todays hurriedly eaten breakfast made a jump for it out of Joffrey's mouth. Strangely, he would have expected, well had actually expected Joffrey to desist in his madness and mewl out the command to return to King's Landing at the first vomit, raging at the disgusting turn of events.

This one had been the sixth… in the hour. He did not say a word besides the gurgling, in fact he actually smiled through his dirty teeth. "This… This is what life should be Hound." He said between gasps, not even minding his own vomit as he looked to the sea. "Free, unbound to die a pointless death… Free from obligation and madness and… and….---" His epiphany was interrupted by another bout of projectile vomit.

Sandor just shook his head. He'd very nearly tossed the mad brat back to Robert when he actually took a couple of purses full of golden dragons, a bastard sword, prayed to the Old Gods in the gods wood, penned his abdication to the most powerful realm in Planetos and strolled down to the docks like he was taking a stroll through the King's wood.

"Hound" he had said with such seriousness he had never seen before coming from him. "I'm doing this one way or the other" he said with such conviction he had believed him fully. "Now, you can either explain to Tywin why I got killed in a random alleyway in the free cities without an escort, or you can come with me" he said.

Damned kid. The Queen is not going to like this… not one bit.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Joffrey puked again at the uncaring sea.

-.PD.-

"Ahh, Lys! The most beautiful of the Free Cities! You made the right choice coming here young lord!" Said the ships captain as the cog slowed, making its way through calm waters to the dockyards. Saying Lys was beautiful was like saying water was wet. The city rose smoothly from the long, shallow beaches, its buildings rising like a continuation of the beautiful bright yellow sand. Joffrey could see people on the beaches, bathing or laying luxuriously on smooth blankets, feasting on olives and wines. Several of those were naked woman, something that pleased Joffrey, though the fact maybe half of them had chains on their necks was a bit of a downer. Like any born and raised Westerosi he disliked the practice of slavery. Besides, hadn't uncle Tyrion said once that a free man worked twice as hard as a slave?

The city stretched over several islands, but its luxurious, paradise-like demeanor didn't mean the city was not dangerous. Its great walls and powerful navy (said to be second only to the Braavosi, though Volantis disputed that claim) defended the island itself, while trouble makers were liable to find themselves poisoned with one of the many fine venoms the city had to offer.

Like the Strangler. Whispered a corner of his mind. He'd almost demanded the Captain to change course once he discovered the substance was originally made here in Lys… But in the end it didn't matter. Ironically, Joffrey thought he was less likely to be poisoned here than he was on Westeros. Besides, ever since his descent into madness… pain didn't register as hard anymore, for some reason. Sure the purple was painful and horrible… but it didn't elicit the same despair and demi madness that it had evocated before… he wasn't sure that was a good thing.

He was startled out of his musings with a jolt as the ship bumped against the dockyards, gleeful sailors jumping down and tying them together, trying to get the job done as fast as they could. After seeing the otherworldly beauties on the beach, he couldn't say he blamed them.

Joffrey and the Hound descended through the plank, the hound carrying his relatively small travel chest. "We made it Hound! Free at last from that hellhole they call the Seven Kingdoms!" he said gleefully as he rubbed his hands together. "Eddard had it right you know, I'm going to experience the shit out of these moments!" he said in expectant anticipation. The hound huffed, shaking his head. "Huh? You think you're not going to? Hound, why did you think I brought two huge bags of gold" he said with a wink.

The hound couldn't close his gaping mouth as the spirit that had hijacked Joffreys body laughed. "Come on, let's find a place to sleep and let's get started!!!" He said merrily as he walked down the pier into Lys the beautiful.

Damned kid, thought Sandor as he rushed after him.

-.PD.-

The three days that followed were full of debauchery and decadence. They said that Lys was god for you as long as you had coin, and that as soon as that run out you were liable to get poisoned if you stayed too long.

Fortunate for Joffrey, he had brought plenty of gold.

All three days had passed in a drunken haze where Joffrey sampled all of the liquor in the city, and rutted with (but did not have sex) with more prostitutes than he'd ever seen before. Uncle Tyrion would definitely be proud.

He had wanted to forget everything about his, hopefully, former life. He envisaged a decade's stay at Lys, by which point his funds would no longer be a concern because hopefully the debauchery would kill him before his purse run out. Though he did have in mind a particular memory he didn't want to forget… one he wanted to finish.

He had been saving his virginity for tonight. He'd had preferred the original circumstances and not this poor facsimile, but, well, getting to that particular point on his standard life was not only distasteful but also liable to get him killed even before he reached said destination.

"I want you to respond to Maergery" he told the golden-chestnut haired beauty as she seductively closed the door and stalked towards him.

"Of course, my lord." She said, sultrily unbuttoning his shirt. "Good" muttered Joffrey as she tugged him to the enormous silk bed. He let his imagination run wild as they both collapsed into the bed, kissing and tumbling for position. He tried to imagine his future/past wife as best as he could… her timid but intelligent eyes, that anchor like emotional fortitude that promised to ground him, that bewilderingly bright red hair…

"Sansa…" he muttered as she unbuttoned his pants. She stopped their kissing to giggle "But I thought I was named Maergery?" she asked in mock hurt. Joffrey snapped out of his trance like state like he'd crashed against a steel wall. "I did" He said, confused, trying to make sense of the bittersweet longings he felt on his suddenly weak feeling right hand.

The Hound suddenly opened the room's door, breaking his incipient introspection.

"Gods, Hound!" screeched Joffrey. "Didn't they teach you how to knock?!" he asked exasperated. The Hound just shook his head "Playtime's over Joffrey" he said in a mildly apologetic tone.

"Wha--" he started, but the question died on his throat as Ser Barristan Selmy roughly pushed his way past the Hound and entered the room, followed by pissed looking red cloaks. "Time to come home my prince, the King and Queen are not pleased" huffed Ser Barristan, seemingly exasperated… maybe Lys doesn't agree with him.

Joffrey eyed the door, and the chair beside it which contained his sword, coin and clothes. Then he looked at the men blocking said door. Finally he looked at the window.

He stood up with all the dignity he could muster as the prostitute scurried away… all the dignity he had wearing just his trousers anyway. He nodded at the men. "Ser Barristan… you forgot one thing." he said smugly as he looked behind the old kingsguard. Ser Barristan, the red cloaks and even the Hound all looked behind them, but just saw a plain (as plain as it could be in the luxurious brothel), regular wall.

"Wha-" started Ser Barristan but he choked off when he saw the Prince jumping through the window.

He landed on top of a cart carrying cabbages, of all things. The shock of the landing stole the air from his lungs as he tumbled out of the cart, bruising himself in the rock paved road. He looked up and saw the disbelieving face of Ser Barristan, only to duck out and quickly command the red cloaks to get him!

Fuck that! Joffrey shouted in his mind as he dashed down the streets, hurriedly buttoning his trousers. Thank the old gods he had been so excited with the whore he hadn't taken off his shoes!

He heard tumbling and cursing sounds behind him, so he doubled his speed and took off into a random alleyway. He skipped and dodged people fucking each other in the alley corners and the shady looking men exchanging bags of gold. He emerged into the other street only to tumble with a surprised looking red cloak.

"M'pri--" he never finished before Joffrey socked him right in the jaw and sent him tumbling back. He suppressed a loud "OUCH", rubbing his hand sore fist with his trousers as he took off downhill. He barely saw where he was going before he crashed against a man with his arms folded in front of him.

The man barely grunted while Joffrey's momentum made him bounce back almost a full 2 meters. Dazed, he looked up and saw a tall, somehow thin but still stoic looking man, who was observing him with amusement, one hand resting on his rapier.

Behind him, several sailors were loading crates into a sleek looking ship, laughing and talking between themselves…

He had made it to the docks.

"Take me with you" he blurted at the tall, stoic man.

You gotta get your shit together Joffrey! Way to start the conversation asshole!

The man didn't seem annoyed, more like amused really. "Oh? And why should I?" he said with honest curiosity. His voice had an iron tinge to it that vaguely reminded him of his supposed uncle Stannis, though there were laugh lines on the man's face that seemed to indicate something kinder was hidden behind that iron discipline… unlike Stannis.

"I--" He couldn't tell him he would be rewarded because his grandfather owned all the gold in the Westerlands, or that his supposed father was the King of Westeros. Besides being counterproductive, Joffrey realized his whole life had been propelled on by those two safe facts.

My father will give you a lordship, my grandfather will give you gold, my mother will have you flogged. Never had someone in Joffrey's whole life given him something because he was just who he was. Only because of his position and family…

Fuck that!

Problem is, Joffrey thought, take that away and he was a pretty useless lump of dead weight.

"I can help!" he blurted. The man had been patiently waiting for his explanation and he raised one thick eyebrow at that.

Joffrey looked down to his only possessions: a pair of ruined fine shoes and his ripped trousers… this was going to be hard. He took a deep breath. "I can help in any way you deem necessary, I don't know much about ships, but I will do whatever labor you want, and I can also handle myself with a bastard sword if you got any, I could help out in a fight with that. The only thing I ask is room and board, nothing else." he released a deep breath as he blurted his piece, accelerating at the end because of a growing ruckus behind him in the quays.

His head swiveled from the man and back to the dock entrance where he could spy red cloaks searching for him everywhere. The man however seemed to be taking his sweet time digesting what Joffrey had said.

He seemed to eye the red cloaks for a moment before gazing back at Joffrey. "You are being chased" he said, matter of factly.

Fuck, its over, he thought. Something told him this man would appreciate honesty instead of honeyed words (not that Joffrey was capable of them anyway). He decided to answer even though the tone wasn't that of a question.

"Yes"

"Did you kill or steal anything?" he asked him with eyes that seemed to bore on him like catapults. "What? No!" he replied vehemently. Well, at least not in this life, he thought ruefully. He was already turning his back, wondering if he could swim across the harbor and loose his pursuers in the poor districts when the man's iron voice spoke behind him in a measured tone.

"I'll expect hard and honest work. Complain or make trouble and I'll drop you on the nearest port. Got it?" he said.

"Got it" he blurted almost against his will. The man's face lightened up fractionally "Head on in, we depart in an hour." He said as he turned his back and started haranguing the men to load faster.

Joffrey stood there paralyzed for a few seconds until the shouting of pissed off Lys city guards confronting the red cloaks made him scramble through the plank and enter the fast looking cog.

-.PD.-

It had looked fast alright. The Eastern Winds seemed to glide above the thundering waves, seemingly aching to just dispense with the water all together and fly like the dragons of old every time she leapt out of a swell. It was beautiful to see.

Or, well, it would have been, had Joffrey not been puking his guts out as he scrubbed and scrubbed. "You'll never finish scrubbing the deck if you keep on vomiting all over it, my friend" Said Baleo in passable, if heavily accented common tongue. His long trimmed mustache was somehow repelling the sea water that splashed around with every wave, and Joffrey felt a pinch of jealousy as he touched his salty blond hair.

Joffrey finally gave in and slapped the sponge down, laying back on his haunches and letting out a long sight. The sea sickness had been gradually fading away, but wasn't fading away fast enough... the occasional vomit still had the tendency to ambush him at the worst moment. Still, he hadn't thought in a million years that being a servant was so damned boring. No, boring didn't cover it enough, call it mind numbing. He had been wiping this deck for the past week and there was no end in sight. He briefly eyed the man who had let him in, Captain Nakaro Faenys. He was standing serenely on the bridge, one hand on the tiller, and he seemed to be gazing at Joffrey. He was testing him somehow, he was sure of it. He would sometimes catch him staring at him with an infuriatingly prevalent knowing smirk, as if thinking and figuring out all of Joffrey's secrets.

He was suddenly assaulted by the deep desire to toss the sponge his way and demand they sail to King's Landing--

My Grandfather can make you rich…

My Father can reward you…

My Mother will flog you…

No.

He was going to make something out of himself, even if he ended up scrubbing freaking decks for the rest of this life, he was going to be something that stood on its own, not because of his gods forsaken murdering family.

Not that he had a choice really. He didn't have a copper penny to his name.

He grabbed the sponge again.

-.PD.-

The days seem to pass very fast. Joffrey was on cleaning duty for a whole 2 weeks. The steady gaze of the Captain had been waiting for him to crack, waiting for him to complain or something. He didn't give him the joy.

He worked hard and mindlessly, until one morning when he made his way to the cargo hold in search for his bucket and sponge, he found the Captain there.

They had stared at each other for a while before Captain Nakaro had gestured at him. He followed Nakaro to his room, were there where several nautical charts and maps, detailing the trade winds of the Narrow and Shivering, amongst others. The Captains room had various knickknacks that Nakaro had most likely obtained on his frequent journeys around Planetos. He could spy fine silks and sea shells, various precious metals, antlered heads of beasts he had never seen or heard of, and many more…

It was, Joffrey realized with a strange pang of longing and jealousy, the room of a man who had likely lived his life to the fullest… and if not, then had at least made a good showing of himself.

They stared at each other for a while before Nakaro took a bottle of Myr Brandy, serving it on two bronze cups. They had strange markings on the side, depicting a picturesque jungle the like of which Joffrey had never seen, and the base of the cup had strange, twisting symbols he did not know the meaning of.

He sipped the brandy carefully, and though it was true the man could have gotten him killed any time now had he wanted it, some habits had by now firmly entrenched themselves on Joffrey's psyche.

"I've been watching you for the past few weeks, and I've got to admit I'm somewhat curious" he said in vaguely accented common tongue. "You have the hands of a man who has not pulled heavy work once in his lifetime… or at least, you had them" he added with a slight chuckle. "But I digress, you are an enigma, Prince Joffrey." Joffrey choked for a bit with the brandy, which ended in a coughing fit. "Don't be so surprised, it was not hard to tie the knots" he said amiably while serving more brandy.

"How did you guess?" Asked Joffrey, trying to keep his cool. If he gets me to King's Landing they will never let me out of their sights again, I'lbe trapped there in their little games till something backfires and I end up dead at best or … I don't want to even think about the worst.

"Connecting the rumors of the runaway prince coming from the west, with a blonde young man running from a Kingsguard in Lys, well… it wasn't the most perplexing mystery I've ever seen.

Joffrey thought about King's Landing again. No… better a clean death and a fresh start. He was already considering how he could get his dagger and kill himself before Nakaro could move.

Nakaro just smiled enigmatically. "Relax, Joffrey. I'm not handing you back to them unless you want to." Joffrey's gaze leapt from his crude dagger's pommel back to Nakoro's face. "What!?" he blurted.

Nakaro's voice took a slightly ominous voice, and a more forceful Braavosi accent "You can't escape from your destiny boy, it is like running from ones shadow, it will always find you, and if you don't confront it first, you will only make it worse. You will only delay the inevitable… There is no escaping." He said solemnly, and Joffrey stared at the change of demeanor in slight anxiety.

Then Nakaro cracked a smile. "That's what my father used to say, shows how much the old bastard knew…" His smile turned into a smirk. "I've been 'running from my destiny' for 35 years, and I'd say I'm just fine. I've lived a long and happy life, and Destiny can go crawl back to the hell it spawned from." He said.

Now, that was a sentiment Joffrey could definitely get behind for, far more than the man likely knew.

Somewhat more relaxed now, Joffrey took another sip before asking. "So, what does that all mean right now?"

"Nothing" Nakaro simply said. "No one said running from your destiny was, in any way, easier than confronting it… just a lot more satisfying." He said with his trademark, knowing smirk again. "You are an enigma, Prince Joffrey. Yet you are willing to work hard and do it with the best of your ability. You will keep working on this ship, for a reasonable pay, and I will treat you like any other of my crew members, no more, no less. Is that acceptable to you?" he said while gently re arranging a map of the Jade Sea trade routes.

Joffrey swallowed before answering. "It is" he said with a nod.

"Good" Said Nakaro. After a moment of silence, he eyed Joffrey in mild confusion. "I thought there was a deck you were supposed to be scrubbing?"

Joffrey stood up, startled. "Yes… Captain" he said. It grated on him to follow orders, it had always been like that. But for once, taking them from someone he was starting to respect made a lot to sooth the part of his mind that was demanding he (or rather his mother) flogged him.

Besides, anything was better than returning to that snake pit that is King's Landing.

-.PD.-

Weeks turned into months as the Eastern Winds glided through the Narrow Sea, far faster than any trading cog had a right to do, if Joffrey's admittedly poor knowledge of ships was to be trusted. When he asked Baleo about it, he had snorted disdainfully.

Joffrey and the squat Braavosi had made fast friends over the last weeks, though Joffrey thought it had more to do with their shared torment of cleaning everything under the sun instead of his own golden personality.

"We are not a mere trading cog, my friend" he said while they were tying a piece of rigging that had snapped off in a mild storm a day before. Well, Baleo was actually doing the work, Joffrey was 'apprenticing' with him by the Captains orders, so that Joffrey's incompetence with sailing ships wouldn't spill their doom in a serious storm or other such emergency. Joffrey had teared his gaze from the absurdly simple yet somehow mind-boggling knots and was looking at Baleo curiously. "What, then? We have more sail than a mere trading cog, and less cargo space to boot" Joffrey said. He was rather proud he had spotted those inconsistencies.

"As I said Joff, no mere trading cog. This slick beauty is a fast runner, made for the sole purpose of carrying small but high value cargo from place to place, as fast as we can." Baleo said as he chopped a bit of ruined wood from the rigging with his axe. Joffrey thought for a moment before asking again. "There's a business for that sort of thing?" he asked as he tried to disentangle another impossible knot, only making it worse. "No, no" said Baleo suddenly as he took the piece of rope from Joffrey's hands and re arranged the knot. "You put this one over, then you tie the loop." He said while demonstrating. Joffrey nodded absentmindedly, his hands trying to replicate it with the next piece of tangled rigging.

"To answer your question, there is. Either from contracts or freelancing, there's always someone that just needs a select Tyroshi pear brandy that's 50 years old or a costume made Myrish carpet, or any thousands of other goods, and wants them now. Or at least sooner than your average trading cog can get it to you." he said. "Of course, when there are no contracts the Captain favors long voyages. After all, the more separated the ports, the more exotic will be the wares." He said, amused as Joffrey had trouble with another piece of tangled, shredded rigging.

"I… see…" muttered Joffrey as he tried to figure out the knot. He messed with it for another 5 minutes before he handed it to the amused Baleo in defeat.

"Don't worry Joffrey, it will get past your thick head eventually" Said Baleo as he showed him yet again, his deft fingers untangling the rigging and knotting it again.

-.PD.-

As more months passed by and the ship made its rounds across the Narrow Sea, Joffrey slowly integrated himself to the Ship's daily life.

The Eastern Winds crew was a mixed lot, and the resulting ship life was, consequently, a mixed lot too. The sailors frequently engaged in varied games of fortune were Joffrey promptly lost all of his pay, and got ribbed mercilessly for it. Other times, the two Qohorik seamen engaged in duels of accuracy and speed with their fine throwing blades, and would challenge anyone to try their luck at the contest. Joffrey's short lived carrier as a knife thrower lasted 3 seconds as the first knife he tossed not only didn't even reach its target on the bulkhead, but skewered a slice of bread one of the other sailors was eating… more than 10 meters away from the target… in the other direction. Tregarro, one of the qohorik knife throwers, had nearly died of laughter while Joffrey escaped from the enraged sailor, a mountain of a man named Voqo.

The sailors were a harsh crew, but a fair one at that, and they took care of their own.

One night the crew had been out and about in Pentos, showering their money away at prostitutes and taverns (not that Joffrey blamed them, anyone needed a good pint of brandy after surviving that storm), Joffrey had taken a few drinks too many and had been stumbling about in the street when two shadows accosted him. "Your purse or your life" they said, or something akin to that. Launguage was pretty universal for those situations. Joffrey wasn't exactly fluent in bastard valyran, but the crash course these past few months had taught him some things.

"*hic*… Fuck my … *hic*…not mother!" he said, butchering the insult in his inebriated state, waving his dagger about. Not that it mattered, that was pretty universal too. The shadows growled, and made to strike him down when someone spoke from behind. "No one messes with the crew of the Eastern Winds you dogs." Said the voice of Baleo. The men turned around to find themselves staring at Baleo, standing aside the biggest man they had probably ever seen. Baleo nodded at his companion, "Voqo" he said simply.

Voqo nodded.

The robbers stared at them in panic, daggers at the ready.

…

…

…

Baleo waited too, periodically looking at Voqo until he sighted, exasperated. "Voqo, kill them" he said.

"Oh, right" said Voqo, somewhat abashed as he suddenly moved. A man so big shouldn't have been capable of moving so fast, but in two seconds he had both robbers on the ground, their necks bent at unnatural angles.

"Lets go Joff" Said Baleo as he grabbed him by the shoulder. Joffrey just hiccupped while he looked at Voqo. "You'd make a fine *hic* Kingsguard Voqo… not that it'd *hic* be hard…" he said, stumbling as Baleo and Voqo looked at each other in confusion.

"Kids these days…" muttered Baleo.

Voqo nodded sagely.

-.PD.-

It was months after that encounter, on their way to Braavos, that they noticed the same ship had been behind them for the past 6 hours… and it was getting closer.

"Joff, the far-eye please" Said Nakaro, frowning at the chasing ship while his gloved hands grasped the Eastern Winds stern rail. Joffrey turned to a chest by the side, got the Myrish far eye, stretched it open and promptly giving it to Nakaro. "Captain" he said.

Joffrey had been for little more than a year on this ship as a crewmember, but changes were apparent still. His hands were worn and callused, and his skin had a healthy tan that did a lot to fix his previously deathly pale complexion. He scratched behind his ear where a bit of salt had made its home. "They shouldn't be pirates, Captain" said Joffrey, puzzled.

"Hmm. Its true that our small size makes most pirates chase other, more apparently lucrative prey… but not all pirates are mindless sellsails…" he lowered the far eye and then turned to look at the various fly wheels and other vaguely toy like instruments on the ship's mast. "They'll try to catch us before the storm… and pirates who are well informed are usually well armed…" he said before nodding decisively, "Baleo, break open the arms chest and arm the crew… and deploy the ballistas… Guess we will see exactly how good you are, Joff." He said.

Joffrey tightened his hand around the bastard sword he had acquired in Pentos, and nodded "We will be ready, Captain" he said. This past year had been incredible, docking at each Free city, seeing things he had never even imagined… and being part of a crew that was starting to feel like family.

He was not going to let them take it.

-.PD.-

As the afternoon carried on, the sky had gradually acquired an ominous dark-grey tone, and the waves were wilder. The ship kept getting close, and worst, it had deployed rowers on its sides, further increasing its speed.

"The men are ready, Captain" Said Baleo, throttling a boarding axe. Nakaro nodded and walked to the edge of the foredeck. "Men! Those bastards over there think they can steal our hard earned silver… problem is, I'm not feeling particularly generous today." He said loudly for all to follow. The men, some of whom had been looking quite nervous, suddenly found themselves laughing.

"Let's show them just how greedy the crew of the Eastern Winds can be!!!" bellowed Nakaro, raising his rapier. The men roared their defiance, Joffrey as loud as any of them.

"Ballistas! Make ready!" shouted Nakaro. The men manning the light ballista's that had been carried and bolted to the deck finished cocking the springs, each of them voicing their assent.

Nakaro seemed to wait for a minute, eyeing the chasing ship, and the winds. The sea had turned even more turbulent in the meantime, and the Eastern Winds rocked about, slapped by the high seas from every direction.

"Joreqor, hard starboard!" he commanded. "Aye Captain!" The sailor at the tiller said as he shoved his full weight to the left, carrying the tiller with him. The Eastern Winds responded immediately, turning to the right and cutting the chasing ship's T at an oblique angle, and Joffrey could see figures on the pirate ship gesticulating wildly.

"Archers, loose!" shouted Nakaro. On the deck the sailors armed with a myriad of ranged weapons, including Joffrey and the ballistas, opened up, showering the chasing ship with arrows. Joffrey could hear their screams from here as the parabolic trajectory of the projectiles brought them down directly on their deck.

Suddenly a hail of arrows departed from the enemy ship-

"Take cover!" shouted Joffrey as he ducked against the heavy wooden railing, struggling to reload a crossbow. Most sailors did as told, but a few were on the deck, screaming as multiple arrows peppered them. Not all of the projectiles had been arrows, some of them were heavy grappling hooks.

"Cut them!" shouted Tregarro, getting a hand axe and trying to snap the reinforced rope that connected them to the other ship. Joffrey joined in the effort, but with the hail of arrows going both directions it was difficult to cut the damned things without ending up as a pin cushion.

Soon it was too late, and as both ships crashed side by side, Joffrey could hear a battle cry in bastard valyrian. Something about skewering the bastards.

And they were upon them. The pirates had little or no armor that Joffrey could see, likely preferring agility and the prospect of survival should they fall to the seas. Joffrey and the crew met them with contained fury, and soon the Eastern Winds found itself host to a whirling skirmish.

Joffrey found himself facing a thin man with two long daggers that kept swishing in an interlocking pattern. They were evenly matched, though the constant tumbling in the deck due to the stormy seas gave the advantage to the pirate, who seemed to flow with the tumbling as if he'd been doing it since childhood. He'd probably had too.

The man wheeled about fluidly, swishing his daggers about and never staying too long on one place. His combat style was strange and unexpected, something that took its toll on Joffrey as a sudden change in direction by the sailor ended up with him being licked by the long daggers. With mounting horror, he realized his left arm had been disabled. It was hanging almost uselessly by the side, bleeding freely. The Hound's trademark grapples would not work for now.

The pirate, likely seeing the blood, redoubled his attack, and Joffrey was quickly on the defensive, parrying and trying to dodge the damned daggers. He was sure he'd seen this type of fighting before in King's Landing, but for the life of him he couldn't remember from who or what it was. He tried to copy it, trying to dodge about with the feel of the waves as the man was doing, but it was futile. The joined ships thundered precariously over the swells, and a sudden wave shoved Joffrey to the side, making him tumble and roll through the deck before his head stopped him, thunking against one of the masts.

He wiped the salt water out of his eyes, and was confronted with the sight of the pirate above him, daggers ready to gut him.

Not like this. Not now.

He had found peace with the crew, of a sort. Not in the physical sense, this life had been rowdier than most… but in his mind, and now, as the daggers descended, Joffrey realized with a start that the simple life of a sailor had brought him more happiness than all his princely pasts. He had found a family with the Eastern Wind's crew, but, as Joffrey had found out before, good things didn't last on this planet.

Everything quickly turned dark.

-.PD.-

He awoke with an indescribable sadness weighing him down. Another start, alone again.

Still, he decided to take a big breath before anything. Then he would think about… everything else…

He couldn't fill his lungs before a sharp pain kicked in at his side.

That's new.

He could feel himself gently sway about, following about the rhythm of the waves. He was likely on his hummock on—

Wait.

He opened his eyes and saw not the stilted ugliness of the red keep, but the blessed view of his crewmates sleeping, playing dice and even Voqo and Maerrys wrestling about, cheered on by some spectators (and impromptu gamblers), all of them on the big compartment that served as the crew's quarters aboard the Eastern Winds.

"Hey!" someone said. "Joff's awake!"

With that shout, everyone stopped what they were doing and swarmed over Joffrey, all speaking at the same time, excitedly gesticulating with their hands.

"I never thought I'd have the horror of watching someone sleep longer than Voqo, but gods did you shatter that assumption Joff!" said someone –Tregarro, Qohorik, shamlesss pranker and party maker--

"That was the shitiest Water Dancing I've ever seen!" said one of them – Draqyllo, Braavosi, dour pessimist, likes to read.—

"Damn you Joff! Now I owe Maerrys 5 silver pieces!" said another one-- Aeolo, Lyseni, widely mocked "dancer"—

"Don't do that again you idiot, you were killing me! Who's going to keep me company scrubbing the floor for eternity if you croak?!" said the jovial but slightly worried voice of –Baleo, Braavosi, Friend.-

Joffrey found his eyes watering lightly, and he cared not that they saw him cry.

They all stopped speaking above each other as Joffrey let his tears run down his cheeks.

All except one.

"I think he's got something on his eye" said Voqo.

The face palms and exasperated eye rolls only made him cry harder.

-.PD.-

The Eastern Winds passed below the Titan of Braavos in triumph, towing her prize behind her. The crew was in an incredibly jubilant mood, cheering for all their worth as they made it back to their home port. Joffrey cheered as loud as any of them (actually a bit quieter, his belly was still sore as hells). The city had a standing bounty for any slaves liberated by its ships, and the pirate's galley had been full of them, mostly rowers although a few pleasure slaves had been there too. Some of the former slaves were amongst the crew too, whooping and cheering. It felt good to be responsible in some small way for so much positive emotion. One of the former slave girls was crying in joy, gazing at the titan of Braavos. Now there was no chance she'd be taken again. Joff was about to tell Baleo about it but he found his friend being passionately kissed (eaten should be a better word) by one of the former pleasure slaves, her eyes watering in joy too but manifesting her happiness in an entirely different way.

And giving Baleo an early start in the celebrations, thought Joff, somewhat jealous.

Joff… The rest of the crew already thought that was his name, but after the awakening back on his hummock he had found himself thinking of his own person not as Joffrey, bastard born out of incest and fugitive 'prince'… but as Joff, petty sailor of the Fast Runner Eastern Winds.

I rather like that, though Joff as he gazed at the most powerful of the Free Cities.

He had never before seen Braavos, and it was clear it was a different kettle of fish from King's Landing. The city stretched across a hundred islands, with stone bridges and small gondolas connecting them together. The huge statue of the Titan served as a symbol of the cities prestige and also as the fortress that protected the harbor entrance. It stood proudly, as if defying the old Valyrian dragonriders to take them back into captivity again. The heavy mist that seemed to permeate Braavos gave the city an alluring, exotic tone to its grey architecture. Truly, the city had a flavor all of its own.

As Joffrey's wondering gaze scanned the Free City, he felt a presence on his side. Turning, he saw Nakaro holding his trademark smirk. "Beautiful, no? Could do away with the smell though" he said, and Joffrey snorted. It was true, the water did smell just a bit fowl. It seemed even the best of the Free Cities had its downsides, and though beautiful, the canals did smell.

As the ship slowly made its way to the docks, Nakaro spoke again. "Before you go with the rest of the crew to toss your hard earned coin to the trash, I wanted to talk about your training schedule."

Joff was nonplussed. "Training schedule?" he asked.

Nakaro nodded as if speaking to a child. "Yes. Training schedule. Your proto-water dancing was atrocious. Next time we fight in the middle of a storm some pirate bastard will finish what the other started and gut you for good… unless you learn how to fight properly." He said.

"B-but I already know how to fight!" said Joffrey automatically as his mind wheeled. The Captain teaching him how to fight? He had seen glimpses of him on the wild melee aboard the Eastern Sails. He had been like a flash of lighting, flowing smoothly between combatants and sinking his pin point rapier into terrified eye sockets and armpits by the dozens.

Nakaro actually laughed. "Aye, if you call that Westerosi stomping 'fighting'!" he shook his head. "Out in the sea there is no heavy armor to bash through, and consequently there's no heavy armor to protect you. The footwork is a death sentence in any kind of mildly bad weather, and in the changing environment of a ship melee there are no soldiers you can count on watching your sides and back" he shook his head again. "No 'Joff', you have a lot to learn." He said, watching as the men tied the ship to the docks. They didn't need any orders, they'd done this a hundred times before.

Joff watched the wandering gondolas for a few seconds before gazing back at Nakaro.

No one's taking them from me.

"When do we start?" he asked his Captain.